


Sit There And Look Pretty

by anotherfngrl



Category: Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, F/M, Musicians, asexual jessica rabbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 03:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl
Summary: Being a sex symbol that doesn't like sex is fascinating.
Relationships: Jessica Rabbit/Roger Rabbit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2021





	Sit There And Look Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> A fact I now know: the Don Giovani Overture Finale, by Mozart, was used in Bonkers, a show which is a stylistic if not a direct offshoot of Who Framed Roger Rabbit. SOOOOO Mozart is canon in the Disney toon verse, tell your friends.

Being a sex symbol that doesn't like sex is fascinating. Jessica supposes it's like being a chocolatier who is always on a diet, or a perfume maker who can't smell.

Like Mozart, the composer who couldn't hear.

It's foreign to her, the idea of seeing a body and feeling _hunger_. Roger has tried to explain- he likes sex well enough, though it doesn't drive him, and he's been happy to accept that she's disinterested at best.

Roger likens it to the way she feels when she hears a familiar melody. Knowingly, smiling, he'd pointed out the way her head will tilt, or her hips will sway- drawn in by the music, almost before she realizes it's happening. How, whether it's her song to sing or someone else's, she _wants_ in that moment- she's pulled forward by desire.

Jessica can't imagine how something so boring as skin and curves could cause a feeling so intense.

Music is... transcendental, for her. It's the time she feels the most three dimensional, in their 2D world. When she stops feeling like a creation and becomes the creator in her own right.

There's something very dehumanizing about being drawn the way she is. Toons look at her, and they think they've read the whole story, from the beginning at her fiery red hair, drawn mysteriously over her eye, through the middle, curves so many eyes have gotten lost in, all the way to the conclusion at a pretty heel. Something to be admired, of course. But never truly appreciated.

To some, she's a beauty in need of rescuing. To others, a homewrecker to be feared. To others still, a femme fatal, the black widow spider nestled in her web, waiting to pounce. None of them see her as Jessica, as a person.

No one except Roger has ever seen a person first, when they looked at her.

When she sings, she feels seen. _Her_ voice and _her_ talent are no one else's. They don't expect it- most toons assume her entertainment value will be found in draping herself across the piano, not singing along with it. She likes surprising them.

But she doesn't sing for the sake of her audience. No, Jessica sings for the freedom of getting lost in the music, for the way the notes tingle through her body and down into her soul. She's as happy practicing a new song alone with the pianist as she is when the club is packed to the rafters. Maybe happier, because there are no catcalls to tune out, no whoops from the audience every time she shows a little extra thigh distracting her from the music.

As if any of them could ever matter as much to her as a song.

No one ever has, except Roger. She supposes that's because she matters to him. She wonders if it would've been different, if they'd met during one of her sets. If he'd have become just another drooling toon for her to tune out.

Instead, they met at the bar. She wasn't on shift yet, but was grabbing a drink. Roger was sitting there, making jokes to the men around him, who were there for eye candy, not humor or even music. He'd said something funny and she'd laughed, before she could stop herself.

Every pair of eyes at the bar swiveled to her. Roger's were the only ones on her face, not her breasts. Because Roger is driven by something, too- he's driven by laughter, by humor, by the chance to make a dark day a little brighter or make a bright one last just a little longer.

Unlike Jessica, who can take or leave her audience so long as she has her music, Roger's passion requires people. He needs an appreciative audience to enjoy his jokes, or there's no fun in telling them. It's that give and take- the relationship between comic and audience- that drives him.

They realized quickly that they'd each found something special in the other. For her, someone who made her feel real, seen. And she was surprised it was the same for him. For the first time in her life, Jessica had to be fetched by the stage manager when she was due onstage that night.

But they'd made plans to talk afterwards, and when she'd found him waiting after her set, he hadn't just wanted to ogle her or _use_ her as an audience for more of his jokes. That's the thing Jessica has always resented about being a sex symbol- that incredibly one sided relationship where everyone wants something but no one has anything to offer that she's remotely interested in.

Roger is different. When she'd come offstage, he'd complimented her singing, mentioned his favorite of the songs. Perhaps even more surprisingly, he'd complimented the way she'd moved- not because it was sexy, but because she'd used a bit of pivoting with the mic stand to highlight an important moment, and he'd thought her mic-work masterful. Complimented her on drawing the audience in.

She thinks that's the moment she fell in love with him.

Jessica's a lucky woman, these days. She's found love twice over: once for her craft, and once for the rabbit she goes home to at the end of the day. All in all, not bad for someone who was drawn to sit there and look pretty.


End file.
